“Oh shit,” she whispered, subsiding her tirade. “Oh, damn, honey. No, no, no. Okay, I get it now. I… I’m sorry. I’m just…”
“You feel lousy, because everything inside you is borked right now. Never mind the pain from the C-section incision. I understand, sweetheart. If I could just… if humans could use some sorta macro-scale QE or something… I’d be at your side right this instant. Hell, I could go back and forth, sleeping there at night and working here in the day. But I can’t. That kind of tech just doesn’t exist. Rick and I have been brainstorming from the time I got off meeting with you last night, and we still don’t have a workable immediate extraction concept. Try to hang in there and just rest and relax, and know that I’m gonna come back to you. But I may have to ride this out, first.”
“I don’t wanna wait!”
“Neither do I, darling. But we don’t have a choice.”
It was Friday, and once more Ashton had a hard time concentrating at the consulate, but he’d mumbled something about Honda’s aunt having taken a downturn when he’d arrived that morning, and Niebecker said no more about it, seeming sympathetic to his plight.
Finally the work day – the work week – ended, and Ashton headed back to the apartment, where Honda waited with dinner and the news of the day.
Honda and Ashton were sitting in their den after dinner, still debating over what to do. Ashton was rather depressed; Cally was still upset with him for not coming home. Never mind the fact that there’s no way I could have gotten there in time, he thought. Even with an express booked on a starliner. It just isn’t happening in a few days. From the time she realized there was serious trouble until they took the baby was less than a full day! I don’t kno–
Just then, a knock sounded on the door.
They glanced at each other; short of meal deliveries and the like, no one ever came to see them. And they had nothing on order.
Both men rose and reached for weapons hidden about the apartment. In addition, Ashton slid on what looked like old-fashioned reading glasses, then gestured to Honda, who nodded and hefted his weapon, aiming it at the door. Ashton eased silently toward the door, keeping to one side. The knock came again.
“Is anyone home?” came a soft call from the other side. “Nik, it is your friend Abe from work.”
Ashton spun to stare, wide-eyed, at Honda, mouthing, “Niebecker.”
“What’s he doing here?” Honda likewise mouthed.
Ashton shook his head, then turned to the door and opened it cautiously.
“Ah, there you are, Nik,” an almost-unrecognizable Niebecker murmured, framed in the doorway. “I understand your caution. May I come in? No one knows I am here, I assure you. I have been very careful getting here.”
Ashton gestured the man into the apartment, and a disguised Niebecker entered as Ashton closed the door behind him.
“Forgive me for interrupting your home time,” Niebecker said, “but it was urgent that I speak with you as soon as possible, and without anyone else the wiser.”
“Please, sit, sir,” Ashton said, waving at the armchair, while he himself took a seat beside Honda on the sofa, as befitted two lovers. Niebecker took the indicated chair, and the two investigators grabbed the opportunity to survey him.
He was dressed down, especially relative to the expensive suits he usually wore at the consulate. He wore large sunglasses and a fake beard. Stained denim – threadbare in places – clad his legs, casual and much-worn slip-on leather shoes were on his feet, and he wore a plain collarless shirt with a jacket hoodie – which latter had been pulled up over his head. He now pushed it back, removed the sunglasses, and pulled off the beard. He was pale, with lines of worry etched into forehead and eye areas.
“I assume it is safe to speak here?” he asked in a low voice.
“Entirely,” Ashton averred.
“Good. I... have a few things to confess, and it is as much as my life is worth,” Niebecker admitted. “And possibly yours, as well.”
Honda and Ashton exchanged glances. “Do you need me to leave, Nick?” Honda asked. “I can step into the bedroom…”
“No, please stay,” Niebecker said. “I think this will take both of you.”
Another glance took place between Ashton and Honda.
“So what’s wrong, sir?” Ashton asked.
“All right,” Niebecker sighed. “First off, please don’t shoot me until you hear me out.” He nodded at the weapon that Ashton had casually discarded on the end table nearest him – within quick, easy reach, but indication that there was not currently a threat. “Because, while I don’t know for certain who you are, I have known for perhaps a week that you’re not from Annalia. I suspect you’re most likely from one of the police or intelligence services within the Empire. However,” he said, holding up a hand, as both men opened their mouths to speak, “I have told no one this. I simply did my due diligence after
